


Wright Place, Write Time.

by punkrocktaire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Stiles is a student, airplane fic, author!derek, derek hates flying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3372515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrocktaire/pseuds/punkrocktaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His nose was tiny and defiantly upturned, and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he looked down at his book- wait, <i>his</i> book. </p><p>Derek stopped, his fingers suspended in mid air. The man sitting next to him was reading the book Derek was currently on tour for.</p><p>Derek scoffed and the man looked up at him. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“Sorry,” Derek said, “I was just…admiring your book.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, Hale. You a fan?”</p><p>Derek almost smiled. “I’ve read a few.”</p><p>“He’s a little pretentious, don’t you think?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blithelygay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blithelygay/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for my best friend Emily for her 19th birthday. I love you, and i hate you for introducing me to this maddening duo.
> 
> I hope all of you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

Derek boarded the plane, dragging his carry-on behind him and then slinging it into the overhead compartment once he reached seat 21A. It was a window seat, at least. As much as Derek hated flying (the turbulence, the food, the other passengers), there was something about the way the earth looked from 30,000 feet up that made it almost worth the hassle.  


He settled into his seat and closed his eyes. Another cross country flight. He breathed in deeply through his nose and pinched the bridge as he let it back out again. The final leg of his most recent book tour was ending in New York City, and he couldn’t wait to get there and get it over with. He planned on some long vacation after this, sand, sunshine, and silence. Maybe he’d even work on another book.  


Derek sat mulling over some of the plot lines swimming around his brain until he was jostled into the real world by someone nearly falling into his lap. His eyes flew open and he grimaced as a pointy elbow landed in his thigh.  


The young man attached the elbow looked at him apologetically. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. Is this 21B?”  


“That’s what it says,” Derek spat at him.  


The man scrunched up his, admittedly adorable, nose and lifted his duffel bag into the overhead storage. “Jeez, sorry man. Who peed in your wheaties this morning?”  


Derek didn’t feel that questioned warranted a response, so he sunk back down into his seat and looked out the window, waiting for takeoff.  


The man sat down beside him with his ipod and a book he had pulled from the duffel before he stowed it away. Derek took a chance to glance at him now, as the flight attendant gave her speech and the plane lifted into the air; he had a habit of cataloguing people faces for his books.  


This one could go on record for the next time he needed a beautiful man in his early twenties with eyes that shined like gold in the sunlight coming though the window. He pulled his laptop from the bag nestled between his legs and looked sideways at the man as he started typing out his thoughts on his features.  


The sprinkling of moles down the left side of his face contrasted flawlessly against his fair skin. His nose was tiny and defiantly upturned, and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he looked down at his book- wait, _his_ book.  


He stopped, his fingers suspended in mid air. The man sitting next to him was reading the book Derek was currently on tour for.  


Derek scoffed and the man looked up at him. “Can I help you?”  


“Sorry,” Derek said, “I was just…admiring your book.”  


“Oh, yeah, Hale. You a fan?”  


Derek almost smiled. “I’ve read a few.”  


“He’s a little pretentious, don’t you think? _‘Silent Nobody’._ I mean ‘The sunbeams filtered through the window, striking her bosom like new buds on the first day of spring. Daniel knew he’d have to get rid of her quietly if he was to save the world, sacrificing his heart for all mankind once again.’ Then he talks about the way she looks when she’s sleeping for another three pages. Who does this guy think he is? Victor Hugo? I’d rather read about the sewers.”  


Derek was practically seething. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take criticism, he’d had his fair share, but he was a three time bestselling author and this kid thought he knew better than all his editors and publishers? Now was one of the rare times he wished he had put his face on the back of his book like all those self absorbed authors did. This would so not be happening. Derek knew he was attractive, but he wanted his writing to sell because it was good writing, not because he had a pretty face.  


It was then he realized the man was looking at him expectantly, with his hand sticking out. “What?” Derek grumbled.  


“I said ‘I’m Stiles by the way, what’s your name?’”  


“Oh,” he shook his hand. He glanced down at the book. “I’m not in the business of introducing myself to strangers.  


“You must be pretty lonely. Though I am stranger than most.” Stiles laughed. “But okay. What’s taking you to New York?”  


Derek smirked, “an airplane.”  


Stiles laughed. “Touché,” he winked. “I’m starting grad school at NYU this semester. Can I ask if the trip is for business or pleasure?”  


Derek exhaled through his nose. This was going to be a long flight. “You just did. And it’s a business trip.”  


“Oh, what do you do?”  


So sarcasm wasn’t going to work, “I write.”  


“Yeah, you seem like the brooding journalist type.” Derek scoffed, but didn’t answer right away, so Stiles continued, “Got any hard hitting pieces up your sleeves?”  


“You could say that.”  


“Anything I would’ve read?”  


“Do you ever shut up?” Derek asked back, avoiding the question.  


“Geez, sorry, don’t be such a sour puss.”  


“Don’t call me that,” Derek snapped back.  


“Fine, sour wolf,” Stiles grinned back, and Derek _growled_ at him. Stiles’ eyes widened. “Whoa man, didn’t mean to strike a nerve. Maybe there is a little wolf in you.”  


Derek rolled his eyes and went back to typing angrily. He was only at it another two minutes before the bubbly flight attendant was leaning over Stiles and blinking at Derek dramatically. “Can I get you anything sir? Some peanuts, a soda?”  


Derek recoiled a little, uncomfortable with her proximity, and glanced at Stiles, who was staring at the flight attendant like she’d grown a second head. “Um, no thank you.”  


“Okay!” she nearly yelled at him, “Let me know if that changes!” She winked at him, _winked_ at him, and sauntered off, swaying her hips more than was probably necessary in the narrow aisle of the plane.  


Once she was five rows away, Stiles broke his stare and started laughing. “Dude, I think she might like you.”  


Derek grimaced. He didn’t understand people’s obsession with his looks. It was like choosing a breakfast cereal based on how colorful it was instead of it’s taste. “She’s not really my type,” he answered Stiles.  


“What is it? Too blonde? Too friendly? Too cute?”  


“Too female.” Why had he just said that? This kid hadn’t signed up for his life story. Speaking of the kid, he was turning a rather endearing shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. Derek chuckled lightly. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to give away more than you wanted to know.”  


Stiles laughed back. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m a bit of an equal opportunist myself,” he smiled at Derek.  


“Nicely put, I like that. Permission to reuse it one day?” He asked, gesturing to his laptop screen.  


“Yeah sure, whatever. I thought you were a journalist though.”  


“Not quite.” Stiles looked at him, expecting him to go on, which Derek had no intention of doing. Eventually Stiles looked away and went back to _Silent Nobody_. Derek plugged his headphones in and went back to his keyboard.

\--------------------------------------------------

A few hours and three chapters later Derek took a break to stretch his arms above his head. While he did, he glanced over at Stiles. The younger man was asleep, snoring ever so quietly, book laid open on his lap, pretty pink mouth hanging open.  


Derek stared at his mouth a few moments, wondering idly what the plump bottom lip would feel like between his teeth… He shook his head, dismissing the thought.  


Derek could never be with someone who called him pretentious the first time they met. Not that the boy had really been wrong, now that he thought about it. But comparing him to Hugo? That was a little extreme.  


Derek was pulled from his introspection by the ding that filled the cabin, followed by the captains voice announcing their decent into JFK and the request that all electronics be shut off. Derek stowed his laptop as the overhead seatbelt light flicked to life.  


Stiles slept on.  


Carefully, so not to wake him, Derek closed the book on one of his own post-it notes (he would never dog-ear a book) and reached across him to fasten the seatbelt around his slender waist. He shivered when his fingers brushed Stiles’ hip.  


Seatbelt secure, Derek settled back into his seat and fasten his own, bracing himself for the always unpleasant landing experience.  


Thirty minutes - and a lot of teeth clenching on Derek’s part – later, they were safely on the landing strip of JFK. Stiles was a very heavy sleeper, Derek decided.  


The seatbelt sign went off, and Derek stood, scooting around Stiles’ boney knees, lugging is laptop bag with him. The movement jostled Stiles awake, and he tried to get up, flailing when he was met by the resistance of the belt across his waist.  


“What? Who?” Stiles looked at Derek and narrowed his eyes. “So not completely unfriendly, I guess.” Derek rolled his eyes and turned to walk toward the exit and the flight attendant that was batting her eyelashes at him.  


Stiles caught up with him, having unbuckled himself and retrieved his duffle bag from the overhead compartment. “So, um, how long are you in New York for?”  


Derek looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “A couple of weeks, why?”  


They walked out of the airplane door and through the hallway, toward the noise at the gate. “I was wondering if,” Stiles paused, sucking in a long breath, “maybeyouwantedtogogetcoffeewithme?”  


Derek laughed a shook his head, and Stiles went white. Derek realized how his movement had been interpreted. “Wait, wait, yeah I’ll go. Here, just,” Derek dug around in his bag for a business card and handed it to Stiles as they walked out into the airport, “call me.”  


Stiles smiled as he looked at the card, “Oh, cool, so it’s Derek?” He lost all his color again. “Wait, your name is Derek Hale? But not like…”  


At that moment Derek’s assistant waved him over, his white card reading “HALE” held in front of him, “Mr. Hale, how was your flight?”  


“It was…interesting. I hope the traffic was alright for you?”  


“It never is, sir,” the assistant laughed. “Good Morning America called and they’d like to know if you’re still available Thursday morning for a segment?”  


“Tell them I should be able to fit it in, yes.” He turned to Stiles, who was standing behind him with his mouth hanging open, “as long as you don’t want to have coffee then?”  


“I, um, I don’t,” Stiles stammered, flushing pink again. “No, whenever is fine. I am so sorry…”  


“Don’t worry about it,” Derek smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me. Call me.” He winked at the Stiles and turned to follow his assistant to the car, glancing back to see Stiles still a pretty shade of pink, tucking the card into the pages of _Silent Nobody_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But Lydia,” Stiles whined, “there’s no way anyone could be this perfect.”  
> “Why not?”  
> “It’s statistically impossible. I bet he puts the toilet paper on backwards, or salts his food before he tastes it, or leaves empty cartons in the fridge, or doesn’t like puppies, or… oh my god, what if he’s one of those people who leave the theatre during the credits of a Marvel movie?”

Stiles set on his dorm room bed and stared at the little rectangle of paper in his hand. 

_I am such an ass_ he thought to himself. 

Leave it to Stiles to ruin his chances with a hot guy before he even took the time to woo him properly. 

He whipped his phone out of his back pocket and punched the number four speed dial. Scott would be boarding his own plane right about now, but Lydia had been settled in at Berkley for a week. 

Stiles chewed on his thumbnail, listening to three rings before Lydia picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s Stiles.” 

“Yeah, it’s the twentieth century, I have caller ID.” 

“Haha Lydia. Really funny. I have a serious problem. Remember that book I let you borrow last month?” 

“Yeah. Hale. Silent Nobody. The author is really hot.” 

Stiles groaned, “You looked him up?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

It’s kind of a long story…” 

Stiles heard the bed springs creak as Lydia flopped down on her bed, “I’ve got nothing but time.” 

Stiles laughed, “Well I boarded the plane and almost immediately fell into someone’s lap…”

Ten minutes later (Stiles paid a lot of attention to detail) Lydia had the whole story, up to Stiles pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Lydia was laughing at him. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you told him he was pretentious to his face. That’s like a third date opinion.” 

“Lydia, can you not? I know I made an ass of myself. But we’ve all got our talents, right?” 

She was still laughing. 

“Lydiaaaaaaaaaaaa.” 

“Alright, alright. What am I suppose to do about your love life?” 

“Help me. I don’t know how to flirt. I don’t know how to have a normal conversation that isn’t about Spiderman or the schematics of law enforcement or circumcision-” 

“That last one could work.” 

“Lydia! Are you taking this seriously at all?” 

“No. And you’re taking it too seriously, that’s the problem.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You have to go with the flow, just let it happen. Talk about whatever comes to you. If he doesn’t go with it, it’s not meant to be anyway.” 

“Well last time I just talked about what came to me I called him pretentious.” 

“You have the business card, right? Just call him.” 

Stiles looked at the card still between his fingers. “You sure?” 

“Have I ever steered you wrong?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Five minutes later, after minimal internal conflict, Stiles found himself at his phone once again, copying the number from the business card and holding the phone to his ear. 

There was only one ring before the tell tale click of an answer. “Derek Hale.” 

Stiles took a deep breath. “Hi, um, Derek? It’s Stiles. From the plane?” 

The serious tone of Derek’s voice faded away, “ah, right, my number on fan.” 

Stiles was glad Derek couldn’t see the blush rising on his cheeks. “about that…” 

“Don’t worry, like I said, I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me. Maybe I’ll make you pay for coffee.” 

“Coffee?” 

“Yes,” Derek answered, “You asked me out remember? Isn’t that what you called for?” 

“Oh my gosh, yes, sorry…I was…nevermind. When is good for you? Classes don’t start for a few weeks so I’m pretty flexible.” 

“That you are. I’ve already seen you stick your foot in your mouth.” Stiles pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, feeling himself blush places he didn’t know it was possible. Was this what flirting sounded like? 

“…hello?” 

Stiles leaned his ear back toward the phone, “Sorry, what was that?” 

“I said how’s Friday morning? Around nine? If you bring the book I’ll sign it.” 

“Ha ha. That sounds good though, nine.” Stiles paused. “Do you know any good coffee places? I’m not really into the Starbucks scene…” 

Derek laughed. “Thank god, I was worried I’d have to talk you out of some ridiculous venti-caramel-soy-latte-two-pumps-vanilla-cinnamon-sprinkles-hold-the-foam kind of order.” 

Stiles smiled and cradled the phone to his ear, “It’s only one pump actually.” Derek laughed again, and god if that wasn’t the best sound. 

“Meet me outside my hotel at eight thirty? I know a great little place. I’m staying at the Hilton on Park.” 

“I’ll see you there.” 

“Goodbye Stiles, until Friday.” 

“Goodbye Derek.” Stiles held the phone until he heard the click on the other end. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“But Lydia,” Stiles whined, “there’s no way anyone could be this perfect.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s statistically impossible. I bet he puts the toilet paper on backwards, or salts his food before he tastes it, or leaves empty cartons in the fridge, or doesn’t like puppies, or… oh my god, what if he’s one of those people who leave the theatre during the credits of a Marvel movie?” 

“Stiles. Calm down. I’m sure it’s nothing that drastic. You like this guy right?” 

“I’m pretty sure I do.” 

“Then you’ll have to accept any of those things. Maybe he’ll think you put the toilet paper on backwards.” 

“Excuse me, no. The paper goes over the roll.” 

Stiles could hear the eye roll in Lydia’s answer. “Yeah, I know. Just, don’t pull a Stiles and awkward yourself out of at least a few months of sex.” 

Stiles squeaked, “Lydia!” 

“What? Have fun, you deserve it.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“Speaking of fun, I’ve got to go. Jackson is picking me up soon.” 

Now it was Stiles’ turn for an eye roll. “Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to you later?” 

“Of course.” 

They said their goodbyes and Stiles tapped the red button on his screen and let out a long breath through his nose. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbetaed, i apologize.
> 
> i plan to add the date chapter soon, i just wanted to get something up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the great feedback you guys! I'm working on a second chapter and i should have it up in the next week or so!
> 
> Feel free to visit my [tumblr!](www.stephensondhiern.tumblr.com)


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